


Touch

by Koschei_Oakdown



Category: Green Lantern - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 17:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13485873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koschei_Oakdown/pseuds/Koschei_Oakdown
Summary: Excuse for Hal to take off his shirt?





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to DC Comics

Every muscle in Hal's body ached, searing pain whenever he moved taking hold of him and making it so hard to think. As though he wanted to, when all he could think of was the disaster he'd just been through. Had caused, if he was honest with himself. But it had all worked out in the end and that was what mattered. Wasn't it? Yes - it had to be.   
  
Kilowog didn't think so. The rest of the team hadn't thought so. And Hal was starting to doubt, just a little. That he'd made the right decision, that placing himself in the crossfire against orders wasn't a mistake, that he hadn't managed to ruin what he had here. Barely straws, but it was all built upon one person and Hal didn't want to let him down. He knew the consequences if he did, that he would not only be destroying his life but Sinestro's as well. That, more than anything, was the cause of his uncertainty.   
  
The door to the bathroom opened and Hal glanced up, already wiping any trace of emotion from his face. "Jordan," Sinestro greeted. Of course it was him. Why couldn't Hal have his minor breakdown by himself? Then again, this was all Sinestro's fault - well, no, he hadn't done anything wrong, Hal was just looking for someone to blame and, as usual, his mentor was right there. "I have been informed -" Another Green Lantern entered the room, rudely brushing past and Sinestro glared daggers at the interruption. If looks could kill... "Get out." The familiar commanding growl had the unknown Lantern scurrying back out the door. Sinestro smirked but Hal just turned back to the mirror, examining his own features once more. He still had traces of blood on his face.   
  
"I have been informed," Sinestro continued, Hal jumping and spinning around at the sudden proximity of the sound, "of what has occurred." How had Sinestro managed to sneak up on him? Sure, he had unnaturally quiet footsteps but Hal was standing in front of a mirror. The reflection should have tipped him off. Unless Sinestro was a vampire now. Suspicious, Hal double checked the mirror but no, Sinestro was reflected back at him. So Hal had just been too distracted to notice him approach. Whatever.   
  
Sinestro stood before him now, arms crossed over his chest and with an air of distinct discomfort to his posture. That alone was enough to bring the smile to Hal's lips. "Are you alright?" the Korugarian asked him, brisk and matter of fact. As though it was a standard question, as though Sinestro expected this to have already been asked by several people and knew the answer. In actual fact, Sinestro was the first one to ask. Everyone else had been too busy having a go at Hal to care about how serious his injuries were. They'd just told him to go get checked out by medical (which he hadn't done).   
  
Projecting an air of unconcern, Hal leaned back on the sink. Unfortunately, the effect was ruined when he nudged against a bruise and winced. He tried to school his reaction but by Sinestro's narrowed eyes, he could tell he'd failed. "Show me," Sinestro stated. That was a very clear order but Hal still hesitated. "Now, or must I remove your clothing myself?"   
  
"That could be fun," Hal quipped, mostly joking but now he had the image in his head, he couldn't help but admire it. Just a little. More than a little. But he didn't push the matter, he could tell Sinestro wasn't in the mood. Sighing, he dissolved his suit and began tugging off his shirt, though he had to slow down when moving got more painful. "So, uh, how's life?" he asked casually, making conversation to fill the void of silence.   
  
"Of no interest to you," Sinestro answered, and shifted his weight from one foot to another. Right, he didn't like small talk. But Hal liked talking so he continued to as he set aside his shirt, leaving his chest and torso bare.   
  
"It's probably going better than mine," Hal decided and eyed up the collection of bruises forming down his side where'd he'd been hit. Now he saw the damage in person, he was reconsidering his decision to avoid medical. But then he wouldn't have run into Sinestro and this entire one sided conversation wouldn't be taking place. No pain or spending time with Sinestro? That decision was easy. "What's the verdict then, doctor? Am I seconds from keeling over? Will you have to carry me back to -"   
  
"Hush." Though the word was quiet, it carried and Hal snapped his mouth shut. "I am an Anthropologist, not a doctor," Sinestro revealed as he stepped forward and scanned Hal with his ring, a glow of green emanating.   
  
"So, what? A professor then?" Fascinated, Hal tilted his head to the side, trying to picture it, and came up with a vague image of Sinestro in glasses, surrounded by books. Very stereotypical and kind of hot but that was a given. What was an Anthropologist anyway? Something super smart probably, that fit Sinestro.   
  
"I wouldn't know." The green light disappeared, indicating the scan had completed. Whatever the results were, they weren't to Sinestro's liking, judging by his furrowed brow and Hal prepared himself for another lecture. But it didn't come. Instead, Sinestro just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "Turn around," he instructed, dropping his hand back down and, though confused, Hal obeyed, eyes immediately drawn to the mirror to watch what Sinestro did next. There was something in the other man's eyes, some expression that Hal couldn't quite read, and his thoughts flew instantly to anger or disappointment. As he'd been expecting from the start. Maybe this was a delayed reaction. But he wasn't afraid, he was just sad.   
  
To Hal's surprise, however, nothing was said, only the cold touch of a construct down his side to reduce the swelling. Sinestro met his eyes in the mirror and gave him a very slight smile, just the smallest quirk to his lips. Which Hal had absolutely not been staring at, nope. Then cool hands landed on Hal's shoulders and Sinestro stepped closer, his fingers digging in. Not unpleasantly, though, rather the opposite, the touch was firm and precise, massaging out the kinks in Hal's upper back muscles, where the skin wasn't bruised, just sore. Exhaustion, being overworked, it faded away as Hal relaxed into the touch, his eyes closed.   
  
"If you don't die first, Jordan," Sinestro murmured to him, the chilled breath lightly tickling his neck, "I'm fairly certain you will be an adequate Green Lantern." And Hal knew that was about as much of a compliment as he was ever going to get from Sinestro. It was good enough for him.


End file.
